Bound By Blood
by Avonlea Sawyer
Summary: Tiger and Del by Jennifer Roberson. Seven years after Sword Sworn, we find Tiger still slive, happy with his family. . But what will happen when a Blueheaded mage, a redheaded captain, and a old woman from the past ruin his perfect world? What will Ti
1. Unwanted Visitors

The circles lay before us as we stood to the side, watching the sparring match. Del leaned against a tree, arms crossed under her breasts. Nayyib stood, his sword engaged with one of the newest students. Nayyib had reached seventh-level in seven years, same as I had. Del stood, watching with a detached interest. Since Sula had been born, Delilah had only taken up the sword for the training circle.

Exhausted, Treylan, the new student sparring with Nayyib, dropped the sword and sighed. "Treylan forfeits!" Alric called from the across the circle.

"You want this one?" I asked Del, glancing at her from the corner of my eye.

The chiseled face looked a bit less fierce then it did before Sula was born. Being a mother hadn't made her soft, just softer around the edges. "I'll take it," she replied, stepping away from my shoulder.

As she stepped toward the circle she began to speak. My heart fluttered as I watched her advance toward Treylan. "This was a simple case of defense," Del began pacing the circumference of the circle. "Nayyib played defense by preventing you from breaking his guard. Yet, he did not try to break yours. This conserves his strength while depleting yours. What you must do is back away after a few engagements. This puts your opponent in a position where he must play the offensive."

Treylan nodded, pushing brown hair from his eyes. He was Southron, and his opinion of women reflected it. But because she was Delilah, he shut up and listened. I was about to move into the circle, when I heard moccasin-clad feet running full speed across the gravel.

Turning, I caught Sula as she barreled into my arms. "Papa," she squealed, placing her soft hands on either side of my stubbled face. Del smiled at me as she saw the small girl in my big hands. "There are two people down at the aketni for you. Mehmet didn't want to send them up to the valley without your permission."

Del strolled over and stroked Sula's light brown hair out of green-blue eyes. "Did they give names, my little sandtiger?" Del asked, using the pet name Sula had adopted from me.

Her little head shook quickly, spraying my cheek with jasmine scented hair. "No Mama, but one of them had earrings like Papa, and a blue head."

Both of us froze in odd terror and apprehension. Without excusing ourselves, Del and I turned and started toward the lower valley, Sula still sitting in my arms.

When we rounded the bend to face the aketni we had a small legion of sword-dancers following us. Standing in the middle of Mehmet's little village were two people I never wanted to see again. Prima Rhannet stood, looking around with a mild disdain, and Nikho Blue-head seemed strangely uncomfortable.

Alric stood behind me as I stopped just a few feet short of Nikho. Sula still sat in my arms, her own arms wrapped around my neck. "How's those sea legs?" I retorted, glaring at him with angry green eyes. This man was responsible for my missing fingers.

"We've come bearing tidings," Prima Rhannet spoke, her gaze unwavering, "Of the metri."

My grandmother. I heard Del's sharp intake of breath. "Leave," I growled. "I have my own family, I don't need her."

"She needs you," Nikho interjected. I felt Del tense up. The metri had practically enslaved me, then allowed me to be turned into a mage.

I switched Sula to my other arm and glared at Nikho. "Shouldn't you be dead?" I growled.

"Shouldn't you?" Prima snapped, losing her patience.

Del clicked her tongue at the red-haired captain. "You shouldn't speak so harshly to five people holding swords. Especially when you have none." Prima Rhannet and Nikho Blue-head stared down at the sides. The small children from the aketni had removed their swords from their waistlines.

I smirked at the blue-headed mage and said, "I advise you both to follow silently, or you won't be able to return to the metri."

Alric swung his sword blade off his shoulder and brought it around to face Prima and Nikho. "I suggest you follow the Sandtiger, not to closely now," he said, his Northern blue eyes dancing with unholy fire.

"Papa," Sula asked me, placing her hands back on stubbily cheeks. "Who's the metri?"

Del frowned at me over our daughter's head, then she replied, "She's your great-grandmother, my little sandtiger cub." Sula nodded, even though I was sure she didn't understand. No one in the aketni was old enough to have grandchildren, let alone great-grandchildren.

Prima glanced from Sula to Del, then to me. Finally, she managed, "She's beautiful, Tiger."

Bile rose in my throat and I swung around to glare at her. "I swear to hoolies, Prima. You keep away from my daughter, and my son," I added quickly, glancing to Nayyib.

I saw Nikho's eyes widen, and he glanced from me to Nayyib. I shot the blue-headed first mate a nasty look; so much of me hated him.

Once we reached the house, carved into the mountain, Lena met us to remove Sula from my arms. Alric and Nayyib, now with his blade out, led our visitors into the house. Nikho and Prima sat at the table, both looking around with interest. I couldn't help but wonder is they were taking visual notes to report to the metri.

Which bought me around to her, again. "What, exactly, does she want me for?" I snapped, watching Lena carry Sula away. "If this has something to do with training that thrice cursed son of a god, she can bring him here, and let Alric deal with him." I displayed my mangled hands, "I don't really have the patience."

I saw them exchange glances, and Nikho spoke, "Herakleio is dead. He was murdered in a winehouse." Del's eyes flickered to me, her depths giving off something I'd only seen once, when she'd been told she couldn't keep her daughter, Kalle. "She needs you, Tiger. Someone strong enough to maintain her blood-line." He glared at me. "Even if it's you."

Laughter rang through the house, my charismatic laughter, as Del put it. "Tell the old woman to burn in hoolies, with her godling grand-nephew." Alric rested the tip of his sword on the floor. "I want nothing to do with her, ever. I have my wife, my son, my daughter. I know who my mother was, I don't need a manipulative, self-absorbed metri. I fought my ass off to establish myself as an eight-fingered sword-dancer. It took me seven years to kill or maim every sword-dancer on my trail, and now I've got a school, and a future. Whether I am slave, outlaw, Messiah, grandson, or mage, I am the Sandtiger, Punja-born and bred. It's sand and sun that pours through these veins, not Stessa blood." Alric's sword arched upwards, catching the rainbow gleam in a slant of sunlight. "Now, unless you have something better to offer, I suggest you get out of my house."

Prima Rhannet, her eyes flashing, snapped, "What! You can't protect yourself? You have to rely on some Northerner to do it for you?"

Before I could respond, Alric spoke up, spinning the sword in capable hands. "It is an honor and privilege to serve the Sandtiger. I will gladly die for him. Or kill for him, as the gods see fit." Del's cheek twitched, and I could see her hands twitching with the need to unsheathe her own blade. But she wouldn't do it with Sula so close.

Nikho reached out and placed his hand on Prima's arm. "Tiger," he began his voice low.

"Don't you dare call him that," Del growled, sounding more like me the I'd've thought possible. Nikho's ringed eyebrows arched. "You stole his identity, cleared his flesh of his legacy. You tried to erase that name and its meaning. You will never utter it again!"

In a whispered voice, Nikho replied, "Then how about his birthname, Broderick Stessa?" I didn't even blink. My mother had died giving birth to be. I hadn't had a birthname. I was the Sandtiger, and I said it. Nikholara shook his blue tattooed head. "Your mother was to name you after her father. Your grandfather, Broderick. The metri awaits you on her ship in the harbor. When you are ready, you will come."


	2. Facing The Future

Standing on the edge of the river, I stared at the stars that I'd grown up staring at. I'd spent my childhood dreaming of a better life, and I'd spent the past seven years building it. Now, I stood between my past and my future. My perfect world had flipped upside down in just a few hours. I didn't hear Del until she spoke from just behind me. "If you'd like to go, Alric volunteered to accompany us," she said softly.

I frowned as I grumbled, "As my hired sword?"

"No," Del snapped, "As our friend. Our family." My heart sped up. My family. I had a family. Alric, Lena and the girls, Mehmet and his aketni, Nayyib, Del, and Sula. I didn't need the metri. But I did need to wash my broken hands of her, once and for all.

"We leave for the harbor at dawn, tell Alric he may bring Lena and the girls. Prepare Sula for the trip, ask Mehmet to borrow his wagon, and ask Nayyib to join us. The Metri deserves to know that while she will never sink her hooks into him, I am not the last Stessa male." Del nodded beside me, then brushed light fingers over my arm.

After a moment of her strong silence, I glanced to her. The strong jawline glowed, and the blue eyes blazed. "Come kiss your daughter good-night, and then come to bed," she whispered, "Tomorrow will be a long day."

As Del walked back to the glow of the houses and Academy, I watched her graceful, cat-like movements. So much had happened in the past fourteen years. I'd lost everything I'd won, and the won everything I'd lost. Everything but my fingers, and my heart. Del still had my heart, and my fingers were offered to the gods of Skandi. But tomorrow I'd win something I hadn't even dreamt of receiving. Ownership of my past.

The port was crowded as we strolled in. Sula rested in my arms, wide-eyed. Del and I had agreed not to take her away from the aketni when she was younger. We wanted her to grow up in our sheltered corner of the world. But this was important so Sula sat in my arms, her soft hands on my shoulders, her jasmine scented hair clinging to my cheeks.

"Papa," she whispered in my ear. "Why are men staring at you?"

I swallowed heavily, but before I could answer, Del spoke up. "Your Papa is a legend because of his name, and his sword, my little sandtiger. The claw marks that you are so fond of make many men fear the sword on his back."

"Papa," Sula said again, in a lecturing tone, "Did you kill anyone?"

I smiled at her and replied, "No one who didn't deserve it, little one." She nodded, then kissed my cheek. Suddenly, I bumped into Del, who had stopped right in front of me. "Del!" I exclaimed as I turned to where she looked. In the harbor rose a ship with blue sails to match the tattoos under my hair.

Del slid backwards a step and grabbed my free hand. "No one is getting on that ship," she said, practically spitting her anger. Her pale Northerner hand brushed Sula's tanned Borderer skin. "No one."

"Prima!" I called up the gangplank. At first, there was no response, then the red-headed, freckled face popped over the railing.

"Tiger," she said, announcing it rather simply speaking. "The metri was afraid you wouldn't come," she continued. "Won't you and your company come abroad?"

I shook my head. "No. The Metri will come to me. Neither myself, or my family," I said, motioning to those around me, "Will step foot on a slave ship, either armed or not, in the presence of a pirate crew."

"I am your family, Sandtiger," came the authoritive voice of the metri as she stepped up to the railing. "By blood."

I smiled at her, enjoying the verbal game that would ensue. "I care not for blood that courses through my veins, only for that which is spilled by the edge of my blade. Come, join us, we shall discuss your new-found allegiance with the bastard son of a molah-man."

"This ship has been blessed, the South has been not," the metri shot out in a vain attempt to anger me.

The same smile played on my lips as I retorted, "If you'd like to speak to me, then you will join the heathens down below." With that I strode away and into the nearest café.

For years, I had placed myself in the back corner of a cantina, always ready for whoever strolled in the door. Then, fourteen years ago, I was shaken when a stunning Northern Bascha with a sword walked into a cantina, looking for me. It changed my life, and not always for the better. After nearly killing her, her nearly killing me, being expelled from the North, being expelled from the South, being named borjorni, kidnapped at sea, enslaved numerous times, even by my grandmother, stripped of my name, title and scars, loss of my fingers, then, finally, my return to my home, my daughter's birth and my new life, and knowing that this simple café could start it all over again… I wasn't ready for this when I woke up yesterday morning. Yet here I am, waiting for the metri.


	3. Family Bonds

We must have sat for an hour, Sula on my lap as I sipped my water. Since Sula's birth I had reduced the amount of aqivi I consumed. Del sat beside me, drumming delicate Northern fingers on the coarse wood of the table. Sula sat on my lap, staring at the sand swirling around the street.

"Papa," Sula said, staring wide-eyed at the doorway. "That blue man is here again."

All of us snapped our eyes to the door. The Metri stood in the doorway, flanked by Prima and Nikho Blue-head. Alric and Nayyib rose to their feet, each menacing in his stance. But the trio that approached did not reach for weapons, but advanced slowly.

"Sandtiger," the metri said softly. "It has been quite awhile." She glanced to Del, and a bit of a smile played at the corners of mouth. "I see you kept your woman, surprisingly. I didn't tag you as one to stick around."

It was meant to sting me. It didn't. "Delilah is my family. I will always stick by her," I replied. It was meant to sting her. It did. "Metri, allow me to introduce my family. Alric, friend, and sword-mate, and his wife, Lena, and their girls. Treylan, my newest student. Delilah, wife, and friend. My son, Nayyib, and my daughter, Sula." The Metri's eyes grew wide. "Sula, this is the metri."

Little Sula's blue eyes raked the woman up and down as Del had taught her, assessing her threat. Finally, my little girl said softly, "Mama can take her, Papa." I smiled. "But shouldn't we talk first?"

A smile played on Del's lips as she stroked Sula's little hand. "There will be no dance today, my sandtiger cub. But when we return home, your brother will give you a lesson," Del said.

"Sit, Metri," I spoke directly to her, "And we'll talk, now that you've descend from heaven." The metri glared at me, but sat down at the far end of the rectangular table, still flanked by Prima Rhannet and Nikho Blue-head. "What did you travel all the way here for?" I asked, taking a sip of my water.

The old woman frowned at me, and said, "I need an heir."

I laughed bitterly. "You denounced me as heir. I am not your grandson. Your daughter was pregnant after I was born. I cannot help you," I responded, brushing Sula's hair away from my face. "You've wasted your time."

"Nikholara told me your birthmark. Your kerakus. You are Stessoi," The metri replied, staring at me. "Your son bears one on his arm, and your daughter has one on her shoulder." Sula glanced to her right shoulder, where her birthmark stained her flesh, then glanced back to the metri. "They are Stessoi," the old woman finished.

It was not my voice that spoke, but it may as well have been. Nayyib's voice echoed the anger I felt at such a claim. "I am born of Sandtiger blood, given life by the sandstorm. I am not Stessoi. I am Nayyib, son of the Sandtiger, greatest sword-dancer to ever live. And you are an old woman, longing for a truth that will never be."

Finally, I found my voice. "Metri, I don't care about your troubles. All I want is to live my life with the only family I have. I will raise my daughter, and hopefully have some more. I will wake up with my wife in the only part of the South that green, and I will die happy. But in order for this to happen, you must get on your ship and go away. Go back to Skandi, and leave my family in peace."

No one moved. Nikho Blue-head stared down the table, eyeing Alric's sword handle. Prima Rhannet stared down the table, eyeing Del, while the metri met my angered gaze. "You are god's descended, Sandtiger," the old woman said. "Who else could conjure a beast from childhood fantasies? Who else could go from slave to legend? You are Stessa, by blood."

"By blood, I am Northerner," Del's voice said from beside me. "Yet I choose a life here, because I love those around me. I offer myself to them, as they offer themselves to me. That is family. We are Tiger's family. It isn't a choice we make, it is a destiny we live."

I smile my charismatic smile, and finished, "This conversation is over." Without another word, we rose from the table and marched from the café.

I had not been in a village since before Sula was born, certainly not Haziz. Since I killed Abu, I had pretty much decided to wait for sword dancers to come to me. Now, standing in a crowded street, I felt foreign. Over the years, Del, Sula, Alric, Lena, Nayyib and I had developed our own language, comprised of Northerner, Southron, and Borderer. The aketni adopted some of the words, and more often the not, I used this dialect. Throughout my entire conversation with the metri, I had managed all Southron, because I was angry. But as I walked through the streets with my family, I mingled terms together.

From out of nowhere, a voice I hadn't heard in a long time called to me. "Sandtiger!" he called, waving his arms. I recognized him immediately. His name was Antan, a man I schooled with at Alimat. He only made it to the third level, before losing three of his fingers to Abu. He made his way through the crowd, a smile on his face. "I heard you had opened a school," he said, glancing at all the swords in sheathes around him. "Well, not you, exactly. I heard that an Alimat trained borjorni had earned back his title by defeating Bensir with only eight fingers. I supposed it was you. Only you would be that crazy!"

I smiled at him. "Antan, how is the desert treating you?" I asked. Last I saw of him had been at an oasis, just before Del strolled into my life, with her Northern magic.

"Well enough. Who are your companions?" Antan asked, glancing over the crowd. Sula sat in Nayyib's arms where he stood beside me. Del stood behind me and to the left, Alric to the right, Treylan to the rear, and Lena and the girls beside Alric.

I grinned as I replied, "My family." Antan stared. "My wife, Delilah," Del smiled and shook his hand. "Our friend, Alric, and his wife Lena. This is Treylan, my newest student, and my children." I watched Antan's eyes widen as Nayyib nodded, and Sula waved. "My son, Nayyib, and my daughter, Sula."

"Well, Sandtiger," Antan replied, "You got your family."

Glancing back at the blue sailed ship, I smiled and wrapped my arm around Del's shoulders. "Yes, I did."


End file.
